


The Rebel’s Allegiance

by JakkuCrew (fromstars), perlaret



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Gen, Minor Character Death, POV Poe Dameron, Poe is force-attuned, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6063688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromstars/pseuds/JakkuCrew, https://archiveofourown.org/users/perlaret/pseuds/perlaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe Dameron is no stranger to dangerous situations, but voluntarily returning to the <i>Finalizer?</i> Maybe a bad idea. And if the stakes weren't high enough, General Organa is along for the ride, and their survival depends on a gambit only Leia can play...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rebel’s Allegiance

Poe wasn’t entirely sure, but if he had to guess, they’d abandoned the fine line between genius and insanity somewhere back around the time Poe suggested they _let_ the First Order capture him for a mission. _Again_. But on the off chance it hadn’t been that, then the last straw had definitely been General Leia’s decision to join him on the mission. That was certifiably insane.

 _And absolutely saving his ass_ , Poe thought as the Resistance General stopped a blaster bolt headed his way with an outstretched hand. It was a handy trick when you were on the right side of it.

With her other hand, Leia cocked her own blaster and aimed, hitting a storm trooper squarely in the gut as Poe shifted to cover her flank. Even as adrenaline rushed through his body, part of Poe wished Finn had been able to be the one to serve on this part of the mission. Finn knew the _Finalizer_ better than anyone else, would’ve been about a million times more qualified to lead this prong of the mission, but he was flying with Rey. Poe and Leia were supposed to be the diversion; not that the First Order had known that when they’d locked on to their decoy Millennium Falcon. Apparently, the allure of capturing General Organa herself had been too tempting to resist.

A loud explosion sounded off from behind him, and Poe silently thanked BB-8’s override of the guns of their ship. The plan was to create as many fires as possible, to spread the _Finalizer’s_ resources as thin as possible. It was the only way they were going to get back out, and just because they were acting as decoys didn’t mean they shouldn’t do anything useful. He edged around the curve of doorway, letting several shots fly. The pained shouts of another storm trooper told him he’d hit his mark.

“We need to get across that hall!” the General snapped, loud enough to be heard over the blaster fire. Poe caught her gaze long enough to see the direction of her nod. He crouched down and shot blindly, long enough to scan the path they would have to take in order to get there.

“I’ll cover!” he replied. “Take the device.”

He tossed her the small data reader, a transmitter drive no longer or wider than the first two knuckles of his ring finger, the last of three meant to be implanted in the _Finalizer’s_ computers at various key points; Leia caught it without missing a beat. Then they were moving, Poe shooting fast and hard, red lasers flying past them at all angles as they ducked and ran. He wasn’t sure whether to credit the missed shots to the General’s surprise Force powers (seriously, since when?) or to sheer dumb luck, but either way, he was grateful.

Unfortunately, luck was about to run out.

They made it through to the hallway just fine. The problem was what was waiting for them there.

Namely, a wide line of very armed stormtroopers, backed by not one, but two, tall figures looming ominously behind them. Poe skidded to a stop.

“Well, shit.”

One of the men in black had to be Kylo Ren – he’d changed his mask, but the demeanor, gait, and singed cloak were all more or less the same. The other, if Poe had to guess, was probably a high ranking officer of some kind, based on the uniform and lack of head gear. Which ranked equally high on the _Not Good_ scale, just below the second wave of stormtroopers that began to flood in at their back. He didn’t have time to look over at Leia, but instead raised his blaster back into position, firing off shots he knew wouldn’t land. They too froze in midair.

_Stupid Force trick._

Kylo Ren’s expression was invisible behind his mask, but Poe could feel the derision billowing off of him in waves. The blasts diverted abruptly from their paths, ricocheting off against the walls with a scattering of sparks. Poe turned on his heel and aimed left of the center ranks, not bothering to question why this time he was still able to move; better to take advantage of it while he still could. Beside him, Leia had begun to shoot at the oncoming troopers with blasts that knocked the whiteshells onto their backs, their falls echoing loudly in the hall.

“Enough! Stop them!”

A moment later and Poe’s blaster was wrenched from his hands by an invisible grip, and with Leia’s went spiraling away across the floor. He thought that was the end of them, but instead, the nearest troopers lunged forward, grabbing at him. He managed to clock one soundly across the helmet, sending it crooked, before they caught hold of his arms. Another retaliated with a punch to the gut that left him gasping and wheezing, the wind knocked clean out of him. Then Poe was being dragged forward, and it wasn’t until he was shoved to his knees, arms still twisted painfully behind his back, that he realized that the General was being subjected to the same rough treatment. A spark of furious indignation lit within him when she was forced to kneel as well.

Leia, however, didn’t even seem to flinch. She lifted her chin and glanced his way, and murmured, “Remember what I said.”

Poe froze, then set his jaw. He nodded once, almost inscrutably.

One of the troopers behind her pushed roughly against Leia’s shoulders, forcing her gaze back towards their captors. And still, Leia held her head up. Her quiet words and Poe’s nod went unnoticed by the First Order officer, but the masked man’s head tilted ever so slightly and Poe felt his gaze bear down upon them both – searching. At their last meeting, Poe had felt Kylo Ren’s impatience and relentlessness pouring off of him, filling up the room, but this time, something felt different. His shoulders tightened as he stared down at the two of them, as if daring Poe to shoot off at the mouth like he had done before.

Poe swallowed, considering it only for a moment before he took the bait.

“Miss me?” he grinned broadly, bracing himself for the impact of a stormtrooper’s rifle butting against his back. He grunted, and forcibly reminded himself of Leia’s request before they’d left the Resistance base - 

 _“I sent you to Jakku because I trusted you more than anyone else, Commander Dameron_ ,” she’d said to him, eyes serious. _“But now, I need you to trust_ me _more than anyone else, and no matter what happens out there, you have to follow my lead. We won’t succeed if you can’t. Are you up to this?”_

\- Maybe being a smartass hadn’t been included in that request, but Poe couldn’t help it.

“Silence,” the First Order officer snarled. “I will be the one doing the talking here.”

“Oh joy,” Poe muttered mutinously, because he’d already come this far. The man’s mouth twisted, his pale face flushing with disdain, and Poe felt the barrel of a blaster nudge against the back of his head warningly. He tilted his head back in response, the crown of his head pushing back against the weapon, and glared.

Before he could dig himself into more trouble, Leia spoke. “So, you must be General Hux.”

“You Resistance scum have no sense of self-preservation,” Hux sneered by way of confirmation. “It’s almost remarkable, but I am so grateful the ever-elusive Leia Organa could finally join us, rather than hiding like a cockroach in the depths of a bunker somewhere. This will be an exciting day for The First Order indeed.”

“A little embarrassing, I’d say,” Leia replied. “Your diplomacy could use some work.” She paused, and then with an infuriatingly calm smile, added gently, “Of course, not everyone is gifted with eloquence or finesse. We all have our own strengths.”

At her side, Poe snickered. As a General, Leia had never condescended to her people, and was reticent to remind anyone of her noble-birth. But here was the Princess everyone knew she was – the _Queen_ , even – a proud and aristocratic woman whose insults were as subtle as her wits were sharp.

“I think she just called you an inbred, dimwitted, uncouth _pissant_ ,” Poe translated helpfully, before he tacked on, “excuse me– _General Hux_.”

That one earned Poe a crack across the face, delivered by one of the stormtroopers at the flick of Hux’s wrist. He only reeled a little, until he wrenched back upright by the blaster-toting buckethead at his back. Poe shook it off as best he could and tasted blood – a split lip, lovely. But better him than General Organa; he’d keep the focus on himself for as long as he could.

“Pride cometh before the fall,” Hux bit out between clenched teeth, expression caught somewhere between a grimace and a deadly smile. “Did you truly believe The First Order was so blind that we would overlook the leader of the Resistance slinking her way around our ship? Were we supposed to be distracted by your futile attempts at a fight elsewhere?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Leia answered, unaffected. Poe watched in fascination as she spoke, warmth and fierce pride filling him as she did so. “My battle has always been here. To restore what has been taken from me, from the galaxy. I will bring it _all_ back,” she said defiantly. “Nothing will stop us.”

The atmosphere in the hall shifted ever so slightly, and Poe felt the hands at his arms loosen a fraction, as if the trooper were as entranced as he felt. Poe’s chest tightened in anticipation, and he blinked once, hard. It was possible he’d just been hit on the head too hard, but suddenly, Poe saw as much as he _felt_ . The room was colored with _intentions_ , each individual presence a nearly tangible thing. It reminded him of his parent’s Force tree, pulsing the room with a soft energy that threaded itself most conspicuously around Leia…. and Kylo Ren?

Though he couldn’t see Kylo Ren’s face, he felt something tremor around them, like anticipation and indecision roiling together through the very air.

Leia had seized the focus of everyone else in the hall. “Look within yourself,” she directed, her tone clear and unintimidated. And while her gaze never wavered from Hux, Poe felt her pull shift to Kylo Ren, words aimed at him more than anyone else. “You know how this should end. Not here. Not today.”

The moment stretched, and Poe couldn’t help but glance between General Organa and the still, silent masked man. The back of his neck prickled with unease. He’d heard, of course, the gist of what had happened on Starkiller Base, and knew that this was the man responsible for the death of Han Solo. But there was something else at work that he couldn’t put his finger on and it had the whole room lingering on a knife’s edge.

“This _will_ end here, and it will culminate with Supreme Leader Snoke’s ascension to his rightful place in the galaxy!” Hux snapped. “Look at yourself, Princess. Your battle is lost, you have been stopped already, and now the rest of your followers will topple behind you like weeds before a blade!”

Leia rolled her eyes, but not towards Poe. This time, finally, she looked directly at Kylo Ren.

“Well. Some people really love the sound of their own voice. Don’t you ever get tired of listening to this?”

A beat, and then Poe was doubting his own eyes, because Kylo Ren’s mask seemed to incline by a fraction – and then he jerked, as if catching himself before the unconscious movement became a nod. The air of indecision coalesced and beneath the coppery tang of the taste of blood in his mouth, Poe felt determination solidify and turn to steel. Not from him, but –

The corners of Leia’s mouth curved upwards, clearly satisfied. She shrugged, managing to make it look careless despite the fact her arms were still held behind her. “No one would blame you. Your control must be immense now if you have to deal with _that_ every day.”

“–Touching,” Hux interrupted, now flushed with new anger. He clearly did not appreciate Leia’s unmistakable dismissal, and turned with new viciousness to face Kylo Ren. “I take it you have not forgotten Snoke’s orders?”

The question hung sharp for a moment before Kylo Ren finally spoke. For all of his uncanny stillness, his voice beneath the vocalizer sounded edgier than Poe remembered; the words came out like a threat. “...I have not.”

“Good,” Hux said, before his gaze snapped back to Leia. “You see, Princess, the fact of the matter is that you are worth more to the First Order dead than you are alive. And as much as I would _enjoy_ making a spectacle of you – a quick, ugly death is a much more fitting outcome for the common rabble-rouser you truly are.” His eyes glinted with sudden maliciousness. “Lord Ren, would you do the honors?”

Leia breathed in, and Poe shifted uneasily as the hall fell silent. Kylo Ren reached for the lightsaber at his side, deliberately unclipping it with a brusque movement. He took a half step forwards before Leia spoke.

“–He _will_ do what he believes is right,” she said, voice ringing out in the hall.

Poe held his breath, willing himself not to flinch as Kylo Ren paused at Leia’s words. It was then that Poe recognized the fierceness of General Organa for what it truly was – not bravery alone, but a master wielding the Force in a way that Poe had only heard of in myth.

“I will do what I believe is right,” Kylo Ren repeated softly, the words coming out unbidden from behind his mask. He hefted his saber, still unactivated, and turned to look at Hux, his threatening demeanor shifting. Poe watched in open fascination as his intent changed, the cloak of anger and turmoil rapidly unraveling as he defiantly looked back at the First Order General.

He was hesitating.

It was all they needed.

General Hux stared back at Kylo Ren with equal parts fury and disgust, his face darkening as he realized the tides were shifting. “This is ridiculous,” Hux seethed, stalking towards the nearest stormtrooper. “I’ll do it myself!”

Hux reached to snatch a rifle from one of his men, awkwardly yanking it upright with both hands.

When Hux turned his gaze to General Organa, Poe moved with speed borne of instinct. He snapped backwards, the back of skull cracking against a white helmet with a force that would hopefully break the nose hidden inside. The trooper shouted in surprise and fell back, grip loosening, and Poe snatched the blaster that had just moments before hovered at his temple and spun, finger on the trigger.

He had time for one shot and it hit home, center of mass, before another three stormtroopers tackled him. Hux stumbled back, the gun hitting the too-shiny floor with a clatter as his hands lifted toward the dark stain spreading over his chest–

“–General Hux!”

“–Hold him, Resistance scum–”

And then a wrenching, electric buzz filled the room, casting crackling red light over them, and Poe thought it was over.

He managed to get his head up, determined to face whatever came with eyes wide open, just in time to see Kylo Ren bring his lightsaber down in a blurred arc, slicing through Hux’s neck with vicious finality.

Hux’s head hit the ground with a sickening thud and for a long moment there was nothing but the deadly hum of the lightsaber filling Poe’s ears. Leia held firm, her attention fixed not on the decapitated general, but on the man left standing. Kylo Ren breathed heavily, chest and shoulders heaving as though he’d just run the length of the ship, his weapon still held in both hands in aborted movement, like he wasn’t sure what came next.

It was one of the faceless troopers that spoke next, voice poisonous with accusation.

“Traitor!”

“Somebody _stop_ him!” an officer snarled to his underlings, most of whom had taken an uneasy step away from the knight. The troopers froze, torn between obedience and flight. The activation of the lightsaber alone was clearly enough to make fleeing the most tempting option for the lot of them, never mind the even more persuasive act of decapitation. A few brave soldiers cocked their blasters uneasily.

Kylo Ren’s saber sparked dangerously in front of him, adding a noxious layer of ozone to the florid stench of charred flesh. Poe felt himself tense at the same moment that the knight did, recognizing the moment the other man reeled back to continue his attack, and fearing what unpredictable turn his behavior might taken next. With a sweep of his hand, Kylo Ren knocked back the first row of stormtroopers, their backs hitting the walls of the ship with a resounding crack. He lunged forwards again, saber hissing as he moved, cleaning cutting across the officer’s chest as he pushed his other palm forwards. The men holding Poe down flew backwards, landing in a pile with those who had been holding down Leia.

Poe scrambled forwards on his feet, grimacing as he reached beside Hux’s head to grab the blaster he’d dropped. He brought it level, heart thundering as he turned it on Kylo Ren, still not sure what to make of the unexpected turn things had taken. But before he could even get the man in his sights, General Organa’s hand was on the barrel, pushing it back downwards. Poe blinked at her and while the look she gave him was stern, there was a glimmer of triumph in her eyes.

“How long until reinforcements arrive?” she asked, turning back to Kylo Ren with an air of straightforward expectation. Before he could respond, an alarm started to sound, a deafening klaxon that left Poe’s ears ringing between each blast.

“Not long,” Kylo Ren finally said, and to Poe’s surprise, he let the lightsaber’s blade flicker out with a final crackle. “You will need your ship. Follow me.”

“Wait, who invited you?” Poe heard himself say, feeling increasingly certain he was having an out of body experience. There was no other explanation for any of this. Either that, or they were being played. He glanced at Leia; she had to suspect the same. “And, General, the device–”

“–Is no longer a priority,” she responded, not even blinking. “We need to go,” she said, plucking a blaster from the the hands of an unconscious stormtrooper.

“Right,” Poe said, turning quickly when Kylo Ren shifted, not trusting his back to him. Kylo began to move at a clip that had both Poe and Leia racing to keep up with him, their footsteps falling hard against the black floor. It was hard to tell whether the knight was just avoiding looking back at them, or if, on the off hand he was actually serious about helping them, he was aware he’d just added his name to their death warrants.

In his peripheral Poe saw General Organa hoist her blaster and cast a glance backwards to ensure they weren’t being followed. It spurred his memory and Poe hit his commlink hard. “Beebee-Ate, buddy, you need to prep the ship for take off,” he said, listening to an affirmative beep chirp back at him over the comm. Another whirring sound came up over the link, this time inquisitive. He snorted. “Of course I can get us out of here. It’s not like it’s _hard_.”

Of course, he had to say that right before they rounded another curve in the ship, just in time to see the armored doors at the end of the hall finish its descent and block their path. It figured.

“They are putting the ship on lockdown,” Kylo Ren observed, slowing to a stop. It was hard to read his tone, especially beneath the vocalizer, and Poe felt himself bristle with sudden suspicion. At the very least, the comment seemed pointed. The General, frustratingly, didn’t seem to feel the same.

“Can you override it?” she asked, pointing to an authorization pad to the side of the doorway. Kylo Ren tilted his head to the side, the profile of his mask visible over his shoulder, and Poe got the funny sense he was looking back at them rather than at the escape route in question.

“I can.”

There was another second where it seemed like the connection between _could_ and _would_ seemed frankly dubious, but then Leia raised her eyebrows expectantly. Which shouldn’t have worked, Poe reasoned. But the man crossed to the panel a moment later, flipping it open and starting to input a code.

Poe glanced sideways at the woman beside him. He cleared his throat. “General, with all due respect… _what the hell?”_

“Commander,” Leia began as she fished a small tech jammer disc out of her jacket pocket. “I don’t know about yourself, but I have every intention of leaving this ship alive,” she said, crossing to the wall and slipping the small disc over to Kylo Ren as he completed entering a complicated sequence of numbers that cut the blaring alarm sharply into silence, but left their way still blocked. The taller man hesitated for a moment, before he took the disc into his hands with practiced familiarity and pressed it against the side of the control panel. The machine made a strained hissing noise, then the doors wrenched open as smoke began to rise from the box in a sudden curling puff.

“–And he’s going to help us do that,” Leia finished, just as Kylo Ren raised his hand to wrench the doors open faster than the machinery was allowing. “Focus on surviving _now_ , and ask questions _later_ ,” she admonished, following Kylo Ren as he strode towards the _Finalizer’s_ hangar.

“Yes, ma’am,” Poe said, because he recognized an order when he heard one. He fell in, ready to run hard as soon as their own ship came into view. He was relieved to see the signs that BB-8 had evaded notice and was already in the Correllian freighter that they’d decked out for this mission; the entry bay was open and clear for their boarding. Aside from the squadron of stormtroopers between them and there, that was.

Kylo Ren’s lightsaber came on with another cringeworthy sizzle – seriously, Poe thought, he did _not_ like that thing – and he swung the thing in a series of complicated loops that deflected the first barrage of blaster shots and sent them careening into the closest TIE fighter. (It was almost a shame, Poe mused, though the idea of flying one again had kind of lost its shine. For all their speed, they were kind of feeble, honestly. Not a great trade-off.) He followed it up with another Force shove that sent the whole line of troopers closest to them flying backward a solid two or three yards, opening a space for the three of them to bolt for the decoy _Falcon_.

Leia wasn’t outmatched, each shot she took finding its mark in one of the First Order troops. She seemed to know intuitively where and when to turn and fire, the returned blasts skipping around her like so many harmless flashes of light.

Poe, again, wasn’t so lucky.

They were doing well, rounding to the entrance of the freighter ship they’d arrived on, when he was hit, a flash of heat and pain hitting Poe’s shoulder like a concussion missile. He stumbled and must have made some sort of sound to alert her, because then Leia was turning and grabbing him by the other arm as she fired off another round. Poe managed to stay upright and recovered his pace with a strangled gasp, dragged along as he was by the General’s vise grip as they ducked into the bowels of the ship.

“Can you still fly?” she said urgently, rounding on him. Poe blinked, trying to clear his scrambled thoughts, then gingerly tested his arm. The pain flared angrily, but he could still move it, and he wasn’t yet dizzy. It wasn’t ideal, but adrenaline pumping through him was going to have to get them out of here, and Poe had definitely experienced worse. BB-8 rolled up to his feet, chattering in concerned binary as Poe determined the extent of his injury.

“Yeah,” Poe determined, before looking down at his droid. “I’m fine to fly buddy,” he repeated for BB’s benefit. BB-8 whistled, before their head swiveled to the side. They made a shrill alarm noise, making a beeline towards Kylo Ren as he stepped into the ship.

“Beebee–” Poe tried to warn, but it was too late. BB-8 zapped Kylo Ren once in the shin, beeping furiously and making a threatening gesture with their taser. “Beebee, no!” Poe rushed over, waving his undamaged arm towards his droid as Kylo Ren took a step back in surprise – and, cheeringly, possibly some slight pain.

“The Beebee unit…” Kylo said with annoyed fascination. “ _This_ is it?”

Poe decided to ignore his comment for the time being and focused on appeasing the droid. “Beebee, we need him to– well,” he looked up at Leia, who was preoccupied closing the ship’s door, struggling for the words to satisfy his droid.

“Co-pilot,” Leia filled in, as she turned and made her way to the gunner station. “We can be sure that he has a vested interest in getting out of here. I’ll take over the guns. Beebee-Ate, focus on coordinates calculation.”

BB-8 let out a long beep that could only be described as deeply skeptical, but after a sharp look from Leia as she started down the ladder, turned and rolled quickly towards its station. Poe knew the feeling, honestly, but there wasn’t time to waste.

“I sure hope you know your way around flying,” he said, angling for the front of the ship. “This way.”

“I know how,” Kylo Ren said, following, his footsteps sounding heavy on the grated walkway. And then there was a strange hissing and clicking sound that Poe didn’t recognize as he ducked into the cockpit, and he looked sharply back, fearing the worst. He wasn’t expecting to see Kylo Ren yanking off his new helmet, dropping it to the side as he looked around. It rolled on the floor as he stepped forwards, gauging his surroundings.

“This is _not_ the Millenium Falcon. It looks far too functional,” he said, voice suddenly clear and distinctly sardonic now that it was no longer filtered through his mask. Without a helmet, Kylo looked startlingly less android and more human – with near-black hair that hit his jaw, a long face, angular cheekbones, a sharp nose, and dark, expressive eyes. It was strange to see his bemused expression written so plainly on his pale face.

“No shit,” Poe heard himself say. He shook himself, dropping into the pilot’s seat to reach for the controls, and ignored the angry twinge in his shoulder from the blaster burn. BB-8 had already input their coordinates, so all they needed to do was make it out of the hangar intact enough to hit lightspeed. “It’s a decoy. Can we go?” he said, gesturing to a switch he needed Kylo to hit before he could begin the takeoff sequence.

The other man stepped up to the co-pilot controls with eerie efficiency, not bothering to sit down before he quickly moved his hands across the dashboard and keyed them for takeoff. It dimly occurred to Poe that this probably meant Kylo was familiar with the real _Falcon_ , and had maybe even flown it before, or had at least seen enough of it to know that it was usually barely taped together. He didn’t know what to do with that thought, so he forced it aside, losing himself in the rush of preparing for departure.

“And – we’re – _off!”_ Poe said, using the thrusters to catapult them forwards, lurching towards the hangar’s open access port. He slid his hands over the controls and let muscle memory take over, darting past rows of unoccupied TIE fighters in the hangar, Leia’s position down at the gunner station keeping them from being taken down before they could even make it out. Poe laughed as he neatly dodged a ground missile the First Order had launched towards them, and hit the accelerator.

He shot Kylo a sidelong glance, noting again the man’s ease with the station, even as he remained standing. Kylo Ren looked much younger than Poe had expected, closer to his own age, and lacked the sort of disfigured wax-monster face he’d come to imagine of someone who was supposed to be on the dark side. There _was_ a pale pink-white scar that diagonally bisected his face, but it looked striking rather than unsettling. The other man frowned deeply in concentration, but even that was too human to be terrifying.

“You’re way less intimidating with the mask off,” Poe remarked, averting his eyes to the front as laser fire flashed outside the ship. It was easily evaded.

“And you said the Resistance would not be intimidated,” Kylo replied, quirking a brow down at him. “Life is full of such little surprises.”

“Surprise would be an understatement,” Poe drawled, and hit the commlink to the gunner well between maneuvers as he sped the ship toward the hangar doors.  “General, how are we doing?”

Even from within the ship he could hear the explosion that rocked from somewhere to their rear, shockwaves making the freighter shake around them.

“That was that the command hub,” Leia said, her voice ringing smugly through the speakers. “So not too bad. They’ll be sending out reinforcements though.”

Kylo Ren tilted his head as if to look back the way they’d come. “They just finished repairing that after last time,” he said with an undercurrent of exasperation that Poe couldn’t place. He scoffed as they broke clear of the _Finalizer,_ open space filling the view ahead of them.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be sending an apology note this time either,” Poe said, reaching to activate the thrusters.

Kylo made a displeased noise in the back of his throat as they kicked in. “Can’t this ship go any faster?” he complained, monitoring the hyperdrive readouts.

“Not until we make lightspeed,” Poe countered. “In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t have the actual ship that made the Kessel Run in thirteen parsecs. This is as fast as it _goes_.”

“– _twelve_ ,” Kylo Ren corrected sharply, before he seemed to realize what he’d said, and then his expression twisted with what looked approximately like horror. Poe gave him a funny look.

“We’re almost clear of them,” he said, rather than ask. “And then we’ll make the jump.” Before he could say more, movement outside the ship caught his eye. “Shit, General, TIE fighters coming up on our port side!”

“Got it! I’ll take them out, you get us clear,” she called back.

“We need–”

“–Shields, yes,” Kylo Ren said, preempting him by turning the key that would activate the ship’s defenses. The lights indicating the shield’s power lit up in a neat row, fully functional. He braced himself with a hand overhead as Poe dove them to the right, lining up a clean shot for Leia below. “They will try and flank us first, then cut down from above,” he explained, watching the oncoming TIE fighters with a studious expression that suggested he was trying to pre-determine their tactics before they used them.

“Already on it,” Poe said. “You want to sit down already? I’m going to launch us into lightspeed first chance I get.”

Kylo Ren gave him a look that was somewhere between sour and haughty, as if the very idea offended him. But rather than offer a rebuttal, Kylo Ren simply folded imperiously into the co-pilot seat. He drew up his legs, wedged awkwardly between the control panel and the chair that had been adjusted to fit the much more petite General Organa.

Poe snickered as he caught the knight’s inelegant position out of the corner of his eye. It certainly explained his reluctance towards sitting down; Poe hadn’t even realized that might be a problem, and they certainly didn’t have time to fuss with the chair’s settings just now. Kylo shot him an irritable glare, but was prevented from adding commentary when Leia’s voice resonated over the comm – a TIE fighter exploding outwards into a deadly bouquet of transparisteel and metal.

“Blow me, you assholes!”

Poe spluttered with laughter, caught unawares by the completely unexpected outburst, and followed it up with a reinvigorated whoop as soon as he could muster it. Kylo Ren, resident asshole, looked like he was going to be mildly ill. It served him right. Not to be outdone, Poe pulled the freighter into an abrupt twist that normally wouldn’t be advised for a ship of its size, but he wasn’t known as the best pilot around for any old reason. Biting his lip, he yanked the controls back, righting them and breaking the ship free of the swarm of TIEs, giving him the window he was looking for.

“Now!” Poe lunged for the lightspeed control and thrust it forward with gusto. The freighter hummed and the stars outside began to blur into white streaks, and then they were home free.

“And _that’s_ how we do it in the Resistance!” he crowed, feeling his face break into a giddy smirk. Poe stretched in his seat for a second, relishing the thrill of the win, only to wince when he jostled his blaster burn. He’d almost forgotten.

“Damn,” Poe muttered, gingerly peeling back the torn edges of his sleeve to peer at the angry red burn beneath the fabric. He needed to dress it, and soon, because the adrenaline rush that’d been keeping him going so far was definitely going to wear off now that the worst was past.

“Gonna grab the medkit,” he started. “Don’t touch anything–” he instructed as he stood up, only to stop short when he caught sight of Kylo Ren doubled over the controls. He’d tried to stand as well, but was now breathing heavily and gripping the edge of the panel in a losing effort to keep himself upright. If Poe had thought of Kylo Ren was exceptionally pale before, now the knight looked downright sickly, sweat beading on his brow. At Kylo’s feet, Poe caught sight of an alarming streak of red that had smeared across the floor, soaking the bottom of the man’s cape.

“How the hell are you bleeding? You didn’t even get _hit!_ ” Poe asked, partly in disbelief, and partly in shock. He leaned over his seat, and hit the comm link again, “General, I think our…. our _hitchhiker_ is going to need medical attention. He’s bleeding out on my floor.” Kylo mustered up a half-hearted glare, but it was undermined by the way he had begun to tremble.

“Don’t you _dare_ pass out,” Poe warned over Leia’s alarmed assurance she was on her way. “I’m not carrying your ass anywhere.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Kylo Ren snapped, and then crumpled gracelessly to the floor.

 

**Author's Note:**

> By "Poe is Force Attuned" we sort of mean Poe is more aware of the Force and people using it than your average person...but not quite Jedi-material. 
> 
> We appreciate comments! Thanks for reading. :)


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